


Jealous like a Vampire

by take_you_to_a_vampire_bar (hermanthejanitor)



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Jealous Simon, Jealousy, M/M, Very fluffy, diabetics beware this level of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 12:28:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15339876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hermanthejanitor/pseuds/take_you_to_a_vampire_bar
Summary: Baz never thought he would get to be with Simon Snow, Crowley his little twelve-year-old head probably would have exploded if he had considered that an actual, realistic possibility. But now Baz has everything he dreamed of, as well as some things he never imagined.Like Simon Snow being jealous over him.Aleister Crowley, he's living a charmed life.





	Jealous like a Vampire

I have known that I love Simon Snow for a long time. You’d think, after being in love with the idiot for over eight years, I would have run out of new things to love. I never thought that. A day never passed where I thought I would be able to do anything but fall more in love with him, no matter how hard I tried.

 

Sure, I would wish and beg and pray to be just a _little_ less hopelessly in love with him, but I never expected it to happen. Everything just made me fall deeper. When seeing him disgustingly sick with a cold in our sixth year gave me a fuzzy, tender feeling…well, I’d known I was fucked for a long time, that just confirmed my suspicions.

 

One thing I never thought would happen, was actually _being_ with Simon Snow. That didn’t factor it’s way into my calculations, because the very idea was ridiculous and tragic. If I had, I might have feared for my future self. Actually _being_ with Simon Snow, having exclusive access to his laugh and smile and kisses and voice and moles and eyes, is a thousand times more addictive than smoking. Of course it is; I could quit smoking.

 

Being with Snow, means that I can watch unabashed as his eyes light up in the sunshine. I can smell his skin right after a shower. I can run my hand through his curls and tug playfully in passing. I can watch his head tip back as I kiss down his stomach. I can bring a smile tugging at his lips with a single sarcastically raised eyebrow. I can hear him gasp when I nibble carefully down his neck, that ridiculous Adam’s apple bobbing maddeningly.

 

I also get to witness Simon Snow being jealous over me, something even my wildest dreams couldn’t capture the pure hilarious, adorable, stupid brilliance of. One of my favourite examples of this was the November after Snow and Bunce moved to London. It's a memory I treasure, partially because it makes Snow blush, and partially because it makes my chest feel uncharacteristically warm. I'm a sentimental fool.

 

* * *

 

 

The autumn sky is grey, but not threatening when Snow meets me outside my lecture with his curls a mess and his smile wide. I wonder if it confuses my peers, this bright-eyed boy unabashedly grinning at the sight of me, the dark-haired snob who has never said a non-sarcastic word to any of them. I find that I don't care. We have plans to go to the cinema that night, an idea so foolishly novel and Normal that I struggle to quash the smile that threatens to break onto my face.

 

We make our way to a cheap cafe, Snow is playing some game on his phone that involves zapping things that look a lot like vampires (I try not to be offended). I'm across from him, noting down bullet points I needed to follow through from my lecture while sipping on a new, offensively sugary, concoction.

 

(“You’re going to get plaque on your fangs” Simon always frowns “and I don’t think flossing works for fangs. Do they make floss for fangs?”) (He’s an idiot. A distressingly attractive idiot.)

 

A figure stops by our table. I ignore them.

 

“Basil?”

 

I glance up. Alex, a guy from my last class is smiling down at me. I’ve had maybe four conversations with him over the course of the term, and all I gathered was that he did not take it as a hint to go away if someone starts reading a book in the middle of your conversation. His face seems almost synthetically symmetrical, his hair quaffed up slightly too high not to be absurd and his eyes a vibrant green too cliché to be attractive.

 

He’s smiling at me. What is it with Normals and smiling? Even at Watford people didn’t need to demonstrate this constantly and publically how damn happy they were.

 

I raise an eyebrow at him questioningly.

 

“Wow, I’ve never seen you outside of class!” he babbles, smile never dipping “I thought maybe you were a ghost or something, haunting lecture halls as some sort of punishment.”

 

“I would hope that I’d find better things to do with the afterlife than sit in accountancy lectures and watch Professor Brown sweat through his shirt” I sneer. Snow is looking up from his phone, frowning, his gaze going between me and Alex, as if it was a neck exercise.

 

“Oh yeah, he’s minging, isn’t he?” Alex laughs good-naturedly. I despise good-natured laughs.

 

I curl my lip and turn back to my notes, expecting that to be the end of the conversation.

 

“Are you going to the faculty mixer this Friday?” He’s like a dog with a bone. A stupid dog. Who can’t tell the difference between a bone and a snake ready to bite.

 

“No.”

 

“Aw, how come? It’ll be fun! We can enjoy the free booze and sneak away if the professors start going on about the current economic climate-”

 

“He’s busy.” That makes me look up. Snow just interrupted Alex mid sentence, narrowing his clear blue eyes and setting his jaw slightly. It’s a look he used to give me, that irritated, suspicious look, it’s nice to see it directed at someone else for once. It allows me to appreciate how his jaw flexes.

 

“Oh yeah?” Alex glances at Snow before turning back to me, not bothering to address him “that’s a pity. Still though, probably for the best, economists get wild when sozzled. How about the weekend, we could do something a bit…quieter?”

 

I don’t even blink, turning a page lazily.

 

“Can’t.”

 

Alex laughs as if I’ve just made the funniest joke on the planet.

 

“What, the whole weekend? What’re you doing? Studying? Come on, Basil, someone with a face like yours can’t hide away, art needs to be seen” he winks, as if he just said something not-idiotic. I want to give him a scar, nice and diagonal across his face, that'd give him something to wink about.

 

The simpleton is still talking.

 

“Give me an evening of your time, Basil, and I promise you won’t regret it.”

 

My lips press together. He’s starting to annoy me now.

 

“His name’s Baz” Snow growls. It’s a proper Snow growl as well, the one that makes my lips tingle if they’re pressed to his throat at the time. I can feel the anger radiating off Snow, the way I used to feel his magic. It’s more subtle now, but I can read the stiffening of his spine and the clenching of his fists.

 

Under the table I reach out and tap his foot with mine. I don’t mind him glaring at some Normal like he wants to skewer him, but if he gets too agitated his tail might start flicking about and invisibly send someone’s drink flying. It’s happened before, and it’s difficult to explain. I hear Simon try to take a deep, calming breath in response to my silent warning, but it barely works.

 

Alex glances at Snow again, as if just remembering that he could talk. He fixes him with a straight-toothed smile.

 

“Sorry, didn’t catch your name.”

 

“Simon.” He says his own name like it’s a warning. My lips almost twitch in amusement, but I stay focused on the books in front of me.

 

“Nice to meet you, Simon” Alex holds out a hand for Snow to ignore “I’m Alex, Basil’s classmate.”

 

Snow says nothing. This tends to be his tactic when menaced. He struggles with words and threats, so he generally settles for just glowering and letting his overall demeanour of unbridled aggression and hostility speak for itself. It’s usually disturbingly effective, even without magic.

 

It seems to work less well on University students pathologically incapable of reading a situation to save their life.

 

Alex turns back to me, mistaking Snow’s silence for submission.

 

“So, what do you say?” I’d forgotten there’d even been a question. “This weekend?”

 

“No. Thank you.” I tack on the ‘thank you’ in a way that takes all meaning out of the words, making them sound like I’ve just insulted his mother.

 

“Another time then. Maybe the weekend after?”

 

This guy would not quit. I finally drag my eyes up from my book to settle wearily on his face _. Merlin, he has the most boring face on the planet_. A Ken doll would look at him and think he lacks character, I can barely get my eyes to focus on him long enough to grimace.

 

“No, I don’t think my _boyfriend_ would like that” I glance over at Snow, a rebellious bloom of pleasure going through me as I see his murderous, red-faced, look in all its adorably jealous glory.

 

Snow doesn’t even glance at me, all his energy focused on Alex, like a sniper rifle with its sights zeroed onto a target. If he still had his magic, I don’t doubt that Alex’s clothes would be smouldering by now.

 

Alex’s smile stretches slightly at ‘boyfriend’, making it look even more plastic.

 

“Well, if you ever change your mind…” he pulls out a scrap of paper with a phone number scribbled onto it. Had the imbecile really been so sure I would agree to go out with him that he had pre-prepared his phone number?

 

“Thank you so much, Alan” Simon had forced his mouth into a smile that still looked more like a snarl “we’ll keep that in mind.”

 

He took the piece of paper from the bemused Alex’s hand, crumpling it and dropping it into his empty cup along with his used sugar sachet.

 

Alex’s smile dropped.

 

“I’ll be off then” he sent me a forceful smile, trying to catch my eye “bye Basil, see you on Thursday.”

 

My gaze drifts away from him and I wave my hand in a small but dismissive gesture. I’m already thinking about getting Snow out of here. He needs to work off some of this energy, maybe we could go walk in the park, he likes that.

 

There’s a crash.

 

As he turned to go, Alex seemed to suddenly stumble and trip, apparently on nothing. He crashes into an old lady’s table, spilling her evidently hot coffee all over his generic black jumper.

 

Snow is already moving, grabbing my hand as he passes me and tugging me from my chair and towards the door. I follow happily enough, looking back at Alex, who is being sworn at by an old lady until the veins on her face stand out. He’s yelping about how hot the coffee is and how expensive his jumper is and how he was tripped, but the whole coffee shop is just glaring at the halfwit that just harassed the most fowl-mouthed granny in London.

 

Snow pauses at the door to send back one last, admiring look at the view, before we’re back outside in the crisp autumn air. He lets out a sigh, smiling to himself. Seemingly in agreement with my earlier thoughts, he sets off towards the park, his hand interlaced with mine squeezing affectionately.

 

He is not getting away with this that easily.

 

“Snow” I start casually “did you trip Alex with your tail?”

 

“Alex?” Simon responds innocently.

 

“Guy from the coffee shop? Hitting on me? You tripped him about thirty seconds ago?”

 

“Oh, _that_ Alex.” His face clears its entirely fictitious confusion “I don’t know, he seemed to trip over his own two feet to me. I know I couldn’t balance with hair like that.”

 

“That was dangerous Snow, you can’t take risks like that.”

 

“Don’t worry it _probably_ wasn’t me. And if it was, it was _probably_ an accident.”

 

“Probably?”

 

“Probably” he nods very seriously, still not meeting my eye.

 

“But” he concedes after walking another couple paces “if it wasn’t an accident, I would say that that would have been rather a restrained reaction to some random bloke insisting on flirting with _my_ boyfriend in front of me.”

 

“Simon” I pull on his hand to make him stop walking and fix him with a look. He meets my gaze for a moment before he finally rolls his eyes.

 

“ _Fine_ , I’m sorry, ok? I shouldn’t have used my tail. He was just being such a twat! And I was sitting right there! What would it have taken, me straddling you in the middle of the cafe to get him to back off?”

 

His eyes flash angrily, territorially. Honestly, I’m touched. I'm not letting him know that.

 

“I don’t know” I smirk “you can try that next time.”

 

We start to walk again

 

“Don’t act like you’re some model of self-control” he tugs my hand.

 

“I am very restrained, I haven’t straddled you at all today.”

 

That pauses his train of thought, like I knew it would. When he gets back on track there’s a slight flush to his cheeks.

 

“Yeah, well last month I could see your fangs through your cheeks when that checkout lady flirted with me.”

 

“Oh please” I roll my eyes “if she had twirled her hair much more it would have got caught in the cash register.”

 

He smiles, clearly deciding that he’s proved his point. I guess he has.

 

“You don’t need to be jealous, you know” I look at him seriously. _Because I never have and never will love anyone but you._ I leave that part unsaid.

 

“I know” his smile tells me he got the message. I hope he has. “It’s just…I like feeling like you’re mine, and I don’t like it when people don’t acknowledge that.”

 

I’m glad I haven’t fed in a while, or I know my face would be embarrassingly pink.

 

A comfortable silence lingers for a couple seconds. We’ve made it to the park now, the dappled light falling between the remaining rust-coloured leaves as we make our way down one of the quieter paths.

 

“I hope you realise that I am yours, you idiot” I say softly, adding on the last part to let myself pretend I have some semblance of self-respect.

 

“That’s good,” he beams at me “I’m yours too.”

 

Despite my best efforts, I grin back. Snow has that effect on me. We walk a while longer, and I can feel Snow’s brain whirring next to me.

 

“You don’t have to be jealous either, you know.”

 

I smirk at him “oh, but I do. You’re a handsome man, Simon Snow, someone has to be there to fend off the hordes of admirers.”

 

He wrinkles his nose at me charmingly; he never knows how to take a complement.

 

“Also, before I forget, you being jealous is _adorable_.”

 

He flushes. _Crowley_ it is easy to make him flush.

 

“Not adorable” he mutters.

 

“Oh, but you are.”

 

“I have a tail, that is not adorable.”

 

I grin wickedly at him “wrong again, Snow, your tail is positively _precious_.”

 

I release his hand to catch his tail easily and give it a tug before dropping it. (I can generally tell where his tail is by his body language and mood.)

 

“Did you know that your tail wags if I do this?” I trace my hand up his spine and even while walking he leans into it.

 

“No it doesn’t” he objects, even as the leaves behind us are disturbed by a small but happy mini-hurricane.

 

I take his hand again and we walk a ways more, before its time for us to turn towards the cinema.

 

I can’t tell you what movie was playing that night, but I can tell you what Simon’s mouth tastes like right after eating popcorn.

 

* * *

 

The next time Snow waits for me outside a lecture, he bounces up to me and meets me with a short but deep kiss, tugging on my jacket as my lips are imprinted by his. I hum contentedly. The weather is fowl, but it suddenly feels summery as he catches my mouth.

 

“You know Alex doesn’t take this class, right?” I mumble.

 

“Yeah, but I’ve got to be thorough, those hordes of admirers aren’t going to drive themselves away” he gives me a cheeky wink before pecking my lips one more time.

 

I’m not going to argue with that logic.


End file.
